[Looking Glass 1] Sans cobwebs & with virgin resonance-for there is more of this illusory thread. For this is something one must not bear in the night, but will diffuse light where shadow thrives in its antiquity. Our light ripples in the veins. Our light disposes its perfection, then shuts its eye, dreaming in grace instances.
[Looking Glass 2] It peeks this sprawling city life, ripples still devout in their grains & still the beacon clings to its new rhythm──still you call blushing particles to interact with steely girders, [how I have known the metal flowers in their full mechanical hardness. How I have looked into the static rivers cupped in the small hands of children] ─look
into the luminous cinema of towers ─look into the rust-colored eye of skeleton mirrors ──they hold, hold still, life's silence.